An end or a beginning
by Nemo
Summary: Set in the trio's future (by 650-ish years). Please r/r and sorry if I'm a little rusty.


**An End – or a Beginning.**

****

AN. This is my first fic for ages and ages so please forgive me if I'm a little rusty.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters, concepts, or situations you may have seen elsewhere. They belong to their respective owners.

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A man sat in a round room, carpeted in royal blue with walls of stone. Shafts of sunlight emerged from somewhere near the ceiling and shone in yellow circles on the carpet, and one, over an ancient wooden desk at which the man was sitting, studying something written on a piece of parchment in front of him. The man was, without doubt, an oddity. He was tall and painfully thin, he looked far too old still to be living; his hair and immensely long beard were snowy white, although here and there, flecks of black still graced them with some show of a long forgotten youth. He wore round glasses with silver frames which sat in front of startlingly green eyes. His skin was wrinkled like a walnut and, on his forehead, was a very faint mark, in the shape of a bolt of lightning. His name was Harry Potter.

Harry sighed as he finished reading the parchment, the Dark Lord was still around, even after all the centuries Harry had endured opposing him, and, impossibly, with age, he was getting stronger. Harry himself was over 650 years old; his longevity was due to the fact that he, with his two best friends, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger, had sworn an oath, on graduation from Hogwarts, that they would not rest until Voldemort, the Dark Lord, had been defeated. Harry had known immediately that something was odd, because he and his friends all felt something, almost like a gust of wind, rush through them. At first, they had thought nothing of it but, as the onset of age began to bring about apprehensions of mortality, the three just kept going and going. At 100, people began to remark that they were extraordinarily long-lived; especially for a group many had not thought would last to the age of twenty, at 150, people had been amazed, after 200, people had stopped remarking (primarily because all their peers were by then dead). They had, after long discussions among themselves, decided that their oath was keeping them alive, in order finally to kill Voldemort and that once he died, so too would they.

Harry sighed again, got up, and moving with surprising speed and agility for one so old, walked over to the fire and threw a pinch of powder in saying 'Ron Weasley.' The next moment, a man even taller than Harry emerged from the suddenly towering green flames and hopped (with amazing spryness) out next to Harry. Harry then took another pinch of the powder and repeated the previous process calling for 'Hermione Granger,' and, once again, a person emerged from the fire, although in this instance, it was a woman, just as old as Harry and Ron.

'What did you want, Harry?' Asked Ron, 'I was in the middle of reading some important reports from our field operatives on the continent.' Ron, like Harry, had long white hair, and a long beard, although his were flecked with red. He too wore glasses, although they were oblong, and he was taller even than Harry.

'I've just finished reading a report from a spy in Voldemort's inner circle,' said Harry, 'he seems to be plotting to attack Diagon Alley again.'

'It'd fit the pattern,' said Hermione sadly, 'he always goes for several families, then goes quiet for a year or two, then he does something big and public, then goes quiet again. The trick is working out which one he's going to do when, and where.' Hermione was not as tall as her two friends, although she too had long white hair, although hers was shot through with brown threads. She had tied her hair back severely and had a pair of silver spectacles on the end of her nose.

'We must get the Aurors out,' said Harry wearily, 'Ron, that's your department, get three squads of Aurors stationed all over Diagon Alley and have all the others on standby to apparate anywhere else at all in case this turns out to be a diversion. I don't doubt this spy but he may have been deceived himself. Now, I want prisoners here, no Auror is to kill anyone unless there is no other way. Hermione, I want you to have people ready to interrogate any captives.'

Both answered in the affirmative and hurried off to set the wheels in motion. Harry, left alone, stared after them for a minute and thought 'this is going to be a long day.'

~~

A hundred and twenty people, drawn up in three blocks, waited like statues in the middle of Diagon Alley, the occasional scratch of a head or the check of a wand the only sign that these were not just some oddly life-like statues (but this being the wizarding world, even that would not have told you everything). Shoppers stood in shop doorways behind magically generated shields, looking around nervously at the three squads of Aurors who had disturbed their peaceful day's shopping. All was absolutely silent, no bird sang, no dog barked, only a gentle wind played on the people who were about to fight not only for their own lives, but for all the others present in the alley that day. The sky was overcast. Suddenly, prophetically, a raindrop fell onto the ground a few metres in front of the foremost file of Aurors and, a second later, fifty black-robed, masked figures appeared in front of them. Both sides stared at each other for a moment, perfect silence reigning before the chief Death Eater raised his wand.

The alley was a mass of confused fighting, variously coloured curses flew in all directions and here and there, a Death Eater or an Auror would drop to the ground, here rolling in agony, here losing a limb, and here lying completely still. The rain began to fall heavily, soaking Death Eater and Auror alike, but still they fought with undimmed vigour and savagery. Thunder began to roll, deep and booming like the anger of an avenging giant. Lightning flashed as though the weather itself were trying to emulate the violence of the battle in the street. In the initial confusion, many on both sides had fallen victim to some of the many curses flying around; it soon became clear that the Death Eaters, having had their arrival anticipated and being outnumbered, were losing and some began to vanish. Others, with roars that they would never betray their Lord, continued the fight, taking several Aurors with them before they were finally overcome.

The Aurors, having finally overcome their enemies, stopped to breathe and looked around them. The marble edifice of Gringotts stood in the distance, still as magnificent and inviolable as ever. Closer to the site of the battle, however, there was clear evidence of the intensity of the fighting, the fronts of several shops had been blown off by the volley of curses which, missing their targets, had simply struck the nearest thing unable to get out of the way. Many of their comrades, and some of their enemies, lay in the street, some moving, some moaning in agony, and some deathly still; many of the latter would never move again.

The Aurors wearily walked up to the bodies lying in the street, administering what help they could to their fallen comrades and binding the Death Eaters and snapping their wands. At the end, 31 Death Eaters lay together bound to stretchers on one side of the street, whilst 37 Aurors lay on stretchers on the other. The leading Auror, John Weasley, took out an odd-looking device about the size of a mobile 'phone and spoke into it, 'we have secured Diagon Alley and have 31 captives. Request pick up for us, our captives, and casualties.'

A moment later, a group of 100 or so witches and wizards apparated to the Alley and began giving each casualty a silvery metal disk, if the casualty was unable to hold the disk, they simply laid it in their hand. When they were finished, one member of the group flicked her wand and the casualties all disappeared for treatment. Then, each Death Eater was compelled to accept a red disk and, with a flick of the wand, they all disappeared to the International Confederation of Warlocks' prison set on an unknown island in the middle of the Atlantic. Finally, they gave each remaining Auror a disk of a gold-coloured metal and the process was repeated, with the Aurors going to be debriefed. Finally, the new group turned to helping the shopkeepers and shoppers begin to set all to right in the Alley; the practised ease with which they did this showed that this was not a new experience.

~~

Harry was on his way back to the Dursleys after his final year at Hogwarts; the Dark Lord was still around but had been remarkably quiet ever since his return; this, however, was no comfort to Harry as he was sure that the Dark Lord's silence owed more to careful planning and the building up of forces than any intention to be anything other than violent. Harry sat staring morosely out of the window, thinking of what had happened in the Dark Lord's last reign of terror, and what might be in store for this one. He thought bitterly that the Sun should not be shining on such a day as this, when he was leaving Hogwarts and uncertain about the future. No, it should be grey, with a hint of rain in the air. Sighing slightly, Harry turned to listen to Ron and Hermione's bickering.

Uncle Vernon met Harry at the station, wheeled his trunk into the car, and drove home in silence. Harry did not make any attempt to speak with his Uncle, knowing that even had he particularly cared for Uncle Vernon's company, his Uncle's face would have simply turned an interesting mixture of red, white, and purple, and a muttered comment about the weather would have been the sum total of the conversation between them.

When they arrived home, Harry took his wand and, ignoring his Uncle's pale-faced protests, levitated his trunk into the house behind him; as a fully qualified wizard, Harry was now allowed to use magic whenever he wanted, and, knowing this, his Aunt and Uncle were very fearful of what he could do, both to them, and their son, Dudley. Smirking at the looks on the faces of his relatives as he levitated his trunk upstairs, he arrived at his room and, when all his possessions were inside, closed the door.

~

Harry was woken in the middle of the night by someone breaching the security charm he had put in the door. He silently sat up and, taking his wand, muttered 'petrificus totalus,' performing the full-body bind on the intruder. The person fell to the ground with an immense crash and Harry saw Dudley's face looking up at him with scared eyes.

'What on earth do you think you were doing?' Raged Harry, 'I could have killed you. Never, ever sneak up on me again, or you'll get far more than the full body bind!' As Harry's anger grew, the room was filled with light, although there was no source of light to be seen anywhere, the electric light was turned off, and Harry's wand was by his side, unilluminated.

The next moment, Uncle Vernon, with Dudley's Smeltings stick, and Aunt Petunia, with her blond hair in rollers, crashed into the room. Aunt Petunia screamed when she saw Dudley lying immobile on the floor, and Uncle Vernon turned very white, turning on Harry.

'Boy! What have you done?' Seethed Uncle Vernon. Harry glared at him and Uncle Vernon shrank away a little.

'Your lovely son,' said Harry in an angry voice dripping with sarcasm, 'took it upon himself to try to scare me by waking me up in the middle of the night. He tripped off one of the wards I put on the door of my room, and I hexed him.'

'Hexed?' Uncle Vernon said, paling.

'Yes, he cannot move now until I release him.'

'Release him now, boy,' said Uncle Vernon menacingly, 'or you'll regret it; I'll make you regret it.' Harry threw back his head and laughed mirthlessly.

'You'll make me regret it?' He laughed, 'do you see what I've done to your nauseating son? That is nothing. I was half-asleep when I did that, I can kill a man in an instant and you talk of making me regret it?' Uncle Vernon paled still further, until his face was like snow, but he seemed to steel himself, and began to move towards Harry. Harry lazily pointed his wand at Vernon and put him under the leg-locker curse.

'Boy!' Uncle Vernon bellowed, 'release me now.'

'Now now Uncle,' said Harry smiling angelically, 'you wouldn't want the neighbours to hear about my abnormality, now would you?' Uncle Vernon made a strange, strangled noise, but fell quiet. Harry also cursed his Aunt and then turned to all three Dursleys.

'Now,' he began, 'I would hate to leave without telling you a few home truths. You are without a doubt some of the most depraved people on the planet. You have made my life a misery for 16 years.'

'See here boy,' said Uncle Vernon shakily, 'we're your family; you can't do this to us.'

'Family?' Harry thundered, 'have you ever treated me like family? Have you ever loved me? Have you ever tried to help me when I've been down? I was treated like a serf for the first 12 years I was here; you only stopped when you were afraid of what Sirius would do to you. You have lavished attention on your foul son who is, I must tell you, an obese, pig-ignorant bully. All the times he beat me up and chased me, you looked the other way or looked at each other with misty eyes and said how your little Duddie was growing up. You are disgraceful excuses for human beings, and I am ashamed to be related to you. Now, I am leaving tonight, and after I'm gone, I want you to forget that Harry Potter was ever here, okay?' They nodded mutely, their faces pale and full of fear. 'Now, here is a reminder.' He pointed his wand at Vernon, who flinched, 'I always thought you looked like a bull,' he muttered, and waved the wand. There was a fully-grown bull which looked murderously at him but could not move because its legs were locked together. Then, he turned to Dudley, still petrified, 'hello, pig,' he said, and turned Dudley into a pig. Petunia screamed, and Vernon looked furious. 'Now, Aunt,' said Harry, sarcasm dripping from the last word.

'Harry,' said Petunia fearfully, 'I'm your mother's sister, please don't hurt me.'

'When did that ever stop you hurting me?' Said Harry, 'you spent all the time when not kissing Dudley and feeding him enough to keep ten men alive twitching your curtains and watching the neighbours. Family never meant anything to you.' He turned Petunia into a horse and, casting a glance back at the menagerie in his bedroom, walked out of the front door with his trunk shrunken and made weightless in his pocket. Suddenly he stopped, turned, and walked back in with an evil smirk on his face.

'Goodbye, _family,' he said and flicked his wand muttering something; at once, Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony was playing softly in the background. Harry removed the leg-locker curse and full body bind and quickly cast another spell on his relatives which made them frolic in time with the music. Laughing at the frolicking but graceless collection of farm animals, Harry left the house. He draped his invisibility cloak over himself, mounted his broom, and kicked off._

~

Harry flew all night and reached the Burrow at about dawn. He picked up a small stone from the ground and threw it at Ron's window. He waited about a minute, and then picked up another one; he was just about to throw it when the window opened and Ron's face appeared, he saw Harry and beckoned for him to come up. Harry got onto his broom and flew through the window.

'Hi Harry,' said Ron, 'out a bit early aren't you?'

'Yeah, I had a fight with the Dursleys and needed somewhere to crash for a while. Can I stay here a while?'

'Yeah. What happened with the Dursleys though?'

'Dudley woke me up,' Harry answered, 'I got a bit pissed off and I, uh… I turned Vernon into a bull, Dudley into a pig, and Petunia into a horse.'

'You what?' Said Ron, grinning.

'I turned them into animals,' said Harry, blushing a little. Ron burst out laughing and, after a moment, Harry joined him. Stopping for a moment, Harry said, 'I also… kind of… set it up so that the Pastoral Symphony would play and they would frolic to it.' They both fell on the floor, rolling around with laughter at the thought of the Dursleys as animals, frolicking in time with the music.

~

Harry woke with a start, and found that he had fallen asleep reading the reports of the Aurors who had been sent to protect Diagon Alley. He sighed, and carried on reading them, although he had a smirk on the face at the memory of his relatives as farmyard animals.

~~

'What?' A voice echoed through an underground lair, a shrill fury undercutting the exclamation, 'thirty-seven of my Death Eaters gone! And all for what? A few pitiful Aurors! Someone here is a spy for that Potter brat and his disgusting mudblood and mudblood-loving friends. Which of you is it?'

A tall figure cloaked in black was pacing around the room in the middle of a circle of other black-clad figures. The Dark Lord's red eyes flashed as his question was met with stony silence. He looked from immobile mask to immobile mask before picking a trembling figure at random.

'You have failed me,' he said in a chilling, yet somehow oddly satisfied voice, he began to walk towards the unfortunate Death Eater who looked like he was about to fall to the ground. 'You gave information to them, didn't you?' A pregnant pause hung in the air before Voldemort suddenly screamed 'Crucio! I will teach you a lesson about loyalty you will never forget! How dare you betray me! Crucio!' The man fell to the floor with an inhuman scream of pain and lay there, writhing and screaming as the curse coursed through his body, feeling like it was filling his bones with molten lead. 'Let this be a warning to all of you,' he said as the man's screams intensified, 'remember what happened to this man and a thousand others before him! Forget him and you will be next. Remember Wormtail!' Here, he gestured to an almost transparent sphere in which a short, fat, balding man was lying, writhing on the floor, screaming in agony. 'He has been there for over six centuries, and still the Cruciatus curse is as strong as the day I placed it on him. If you wish to avoid his fate, never betray me!' Whilst he gave this warning, the man still writhed and screamed at his feet. 'Now,' he said, 'pay the price for your betrayal! Avada Kedavra!' The man lay still and silent, the others in the room trembled. 'I am Lord Voldemort!'

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AN. Sorry if I'm a little out of practice, this is my first fic in ages. I'll try to get another part of this out soon but I make no promises as I have exams until next Tuesday as well at the Order of the Phoenix to read over the weekend.

_Peace!_

_Nemo, __18/06/03___


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